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Bus#126W       My Family and I       Games we play       All Roads Lead Home       As Good As It Gets       Whodunit?      

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Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Once Upon A Dream - 3

“I think I’ve seen enough.” She told his mother, tears glistening in her eyes. “I should leave.”
She had barely lasted 30 minutes. Her gut told her to stick around, but her mind was telling her to cut her losses and run.
 “Okay.” His mother nodded. She had gotten used to people walking in and out, unable to deal with what she had faced for ten years, for even an hour. She was no better. His mother had known she wouldn’t last an hour.
“He doesn’t remember me.” She explained. No one  asked for one but she felt obliged to tell them why she was leaving.
“Muh! Muh!” He said. He was more animated now. But maybe it was because he wanted more food.
“Just stay.” His father spoke from a corner. “Let him get used to your presence.”
She shook her head, sniffling loudly, “I can’t.” She said helplessly.
His father placed his hand on her shoulders, “It’s okay, we understand.” He tried to smile at her but it didn’t come out right. Feeling more guilty than ever she stepped away from him and his father.

She paused as she reached the door.
“I’m leaving now.” She announced slowly. Silence. She turned around, sobbing a little by now. “What else can I do?” She shut her eyes tightly, wiping her face with the back of her palm.
His mother looked away from her, she probably had more important things to worry about than a strange unfamiliar girl crying at her doorstep. There was a time when this family was like her own. Not anymore. She had severed all ties with them, in fact they had encouraged it.
“He’s not going to recover sweetheart, don’t wait for him.” She had been advised. And after waiting around for three years, she had given up. Three years of hopelessly sitting around his bed side, trying to be positive around his family and crying herself to sleep every night.
His mother had no right to make her feel like shit. She had waited. She had done all she could. She had wanted to keep in touch but they had told her to start a new life, to move on.
With great difficulty she had done exactly that. Taken each day as it came, forcing herself to be normal, to ignore the void that she felt everyday. She knew it would never be completely filled, but she had hoped that after ten years, it would have healed a little.
Seven years after her sabbatical, they had called her. To share news that he could understand them. Communicate even. She had left everything, just dropped everything and rushed back on the first flight.
For what? What had she expected? A happy reunion?

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